Forsythias

C. L. O'Dell

I think about time.The forsythiasand the man singingin the car ahead of me.When I enter the spacethe same shapehe made a momentbefore me,where is the music,the taste of honeyin his mouth and nowmine, the thoughtof kissing his wife good-byeand the words of a songlifting off my tongueas if from memory, but his?What is mine stays with me,my heart in the glitterof his heart. My dreamshave no bones. Loveis never saved in layersof rock. So much of mewill never be foundon this earth.

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January 1, 2022

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C. L. O’Dell’s poems have appeared in The New Yorker, Poetry Magazine, Ploughshares, New England Review, The Southern Review, Poetry Ireland Review and Best New Poets, among others. He is founder and editor of The Paris-American.

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The Southern Review

Summer 2021

Baton Rouge, Louisiana

Louisiana State University

Co-Editor & Poetry Editor
Jessica Faust

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